


Watch your tounge (AntisepticeyeXReader)

by This_is_septic



Category: jacksepticeye
Genre: Degradation, Dominance, F/M, Mind Manipulation, Porn, Submission, Witchcraft
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-30
Updated: 2018-12-02
Packaged: 2019-09-02 21:08:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16794766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/This_is_septic/pseuds/This_is_septic
Summary: Your encounter with the demon gets you little too exited, He needs to put you in place.





	1. The encounter

About five hours of sunlight. That's all we get this time of year.  
The cup of tea in my hands warm a little as compensation for the missing sun.  
The forest outside is soon going to be dimmly lit by the sunrise. Early mornings like these were always my favorite time of day. The world not yet awake but soon opening it's eyes. Winter is aproaching rapidly with frost as it's first formal greeting. I felt very pretentious viewing the world this way, but it was nice having these moments every now and then.  
Especially lately..

I glance down at the deck of cards layed in front of me, a slight wave of anticipation and anxiety welling in my chest. I've read tarots for a while now. Always found them facinating but only recently started taking them seriously. Getting intouch with the etherial plane was a thrilling thought. Something I found almost...arousing? Mostly because of the tension of the moment. I didn't want to admit feeling that way, but I knew I did. However It had never happened to me annyways. Not that I’ve actively tried. Lately I'd both been eager but scared of the cards.  
It's unnerving. Drawing the same exact cards often is one thing but when your Tatots decide to give you the same reading five times in a row it's not a joke. 

"Six of pentacles, ten of swords, Strength inverted" I breathe silently into the stillness of the morning.  
I ponder these cards and their meaning, not with ease, as I sip my tea.

𝘚𝘪𝘹 𝘰𝘧 𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘤𝘭𝘦𝘴, 𝘕𝘰𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳.  
𝘛𝘦𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴, 𝘝𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘮 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘺𝘳𝘥𝘰𝘮. 

These cards always changed position in the layout, taking turns reprecenting the past or present.  
It's the next part that made me tremble slightly as I now held the deck in my hands.

I stroke away a few strands of hair from my face and remind myself of my breathing.

𝘚𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘨𝘵𝘩 𝘪𝘯𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘥. 𝘈𝘣𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘱𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳, 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘦, 𝘧𝘦𝘢𝘳, 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘤𝘰𝘳𝘥.

Always in the position of my future.

I adjust my posture and take a deep breath before shuffling the deck until if feels right. I keep my eyes closed as I prepare the layout in front of me.

I pick a card, flips it facing up.  
The cold surface of the table is almost welcoming as I slide the card out into position. A gentle reminder of the physical plain I'm situated in.  
the herbal candles sweet scent hits me and I inhale it softly. The sage burning in the bowl next to me releases stings of smoke that I can feel dancing across my skin. “I’m safe” The thought, as well as the atmosphere, filling my body with newfound strength I slowly fixate the cards into their positions. 

I open my eyes.  
The three cards in front of me are upside down.  
I blink for a second, sure of the fact that I flipped them all the right way.  
Looking down at the rest of the deck in my hand, like I've missed something, I'm not met by anything unusual.  
The deck is turned the right way in my hand.

I feel the wave of anxiety from before like a heavy, wet substance in my chest.  
“I do this every morning, I know what i’m doing” I could be misstaken, I remind myself. I must have just forgotten to flip them.  
I know imidietly that that's a lie but I have no other answer.

The sage’s smoke suddenly feel heavy.

"Let's get this over with" I have to tell myself out loud before putting the deck down and decicivley flipping the first card over.

𝘚𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘨𝘵𝘩 𝘪𝘯𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘥

I shallow sharply, my mouth getting a little dry.  
"you again" I whisper irritably through gritted teeth, doing my best to mask the fear lurking up next to anxiety. I loved the feeling.

I lay my hand over the next card.  
"Let me guess" I say to fill the uncomfortable scilence.  
"Six of pentacles?"

I flip the card.

𝘚𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘨𝘵𝘩 𝘪𝘯𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘥

The anxiety is gone now. In it's place a primal fear. There isn't two of those cards in this deck.  
I feel a strange metallic taste in my mouth from nowhere, getting goosebumps over my arms. The candles are burning out but the scent is still somehow sickeningly sweet. I feel sick.

I have no interest turning the third card. Actually I have no interest even looking at it, laying there face down on the table.  
This isn't a game anymore, something to do when curious.  
I instead turn my head towards the clock displayed on the microwave, looking for an excuse other than my discomfort to pack away the cards and get ready for work.

As I fix my eyes on the digits I have to blink several times before my brain actually responds to my sight.  
The digits are taking turns blinking between two messages.

66:66  
𝘏𝘌:𝘓𝘖

My breath rapidly makes my chest raise and fall. I turn back to the table in front of me. The disbelief bouncing around with racing thoughts in my head.  
“Why was this so exiting? I'm clearly in danger.”  
“Is this finally it?”   
“Is this even a good thing to be exited about?”  
“I wonder what he tastes like”  
A sharp sudden pain goes through your forehead at that last thought.   
That was not my thought. I did think it, but it was placed in my mind, I’m sure of it.

I shake my head and rub my face. My hands and fingers are tingling.  
“Enough”  
I get my mind together and instinctively I reach for the upwards facing cards to put them away.  
I lower my hand upon the first hard, deck already in hand, to stop this madness. Return the cards and thereby order.  
But with the sweeping motion of my hand the card won't budge. I sweep again, with force I didn't think I needed to use on cards, paniced and...pulsating by the situation unfolding.  
"Stop" I think.  
I ignore the last thought.  
To my relief and disbelief the two cards actually move.  
For a second I thought I had broken the eerie atmosphere, but the cards weren't moving because of me.

The two cards of strength move slightly across the edge of the table towards me in a rigid and twitchy pattern.  
Seperating slightly, enough to make place for the third, unflipped, card to join them in the middle.  
I'm numbing up from the fear before the microwave startles me with a loud beep.  
I turn to face the digits once more.

𝘍𝘓:𝘐𝘗

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, this is my first time writing on here! I hope you enjoy and look forward to see how this all plays out :)


	2. The confrontation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You have made contact and you don't care if it's good or bad.

I remember my first encounter with the supernatural.  
It's not anything extraordinary but something that made me hungry for more. Something that made me dabble in the arts.  
I was about fifteen. what is that...six...seven years from now? Already?

I was outside my parents house, shaking in the damp autumn cold. I was holding a nearly empty lighter and a slightly crumpled cigarette.  
My friend had given them to me so that I could get used to the sensation of smoking and not make a fool of myself.  
That weekend we had been given what seemed like an invitation to a party.  
It was a big deal back then. even though, looking back at it now, I would have had a better time staying at home watching Twin Peaks.  
I was frantically trying to light that damn cigarette in the damp air with little-to-no lighter fluid to help me as I finally managed to get it to light up. I drew a breath, hardly getting any smoke.

I coughed my lungs out. Of course. But with that breath something did happen.  
In the smoke there were these...Patterns? I could almost describe them as words or symbols.  
They spoke to me and i completely forgot about the party.  
I dropped the lighter and now only slightly used cigarette on the ground and ran inside the house.  
Once I had kicked off my shoes, stumbling through the mess of the entrance hall and entering my room, I scavenged for something to draw on.  
I found a pen and an old recite for some art supplies. I turned it over and started scribbling down what I had seen. 

Later through research learned that these were the symbols of Draiocht and Eolas. meaning respectively "Magic" and "Knowledge".

Being in that moment for a flash second felt like forever ago. Now here I am. In this present moment, being told to do things.  
Having my mind invaded like it's not my own anymore and however I tried not to be exited, I am.  
my mind was racing as fast as I once did to draw those symbols down.

The one un-turned card just lays in front of me. Mockingly.  
My trance is broken by the microwave beeping again.

DO:NT  
WA:IT

Whatever "He" is, he's not patient.  
I need to turn the card. If I don't I have a feeling He won't have that.  
I put my hand over the card. It's buzzing. Humming softly.  
i drag it to the edge of the table, my thumb lifting up the edge as it willingly follows.

I keep my eyes fixed on the card this time.  
The three cards aligned now faced up.  
All reading

𝘚𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘨𝘵𝘩 𝘪𝘯𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘥

Something snaps. The air is different now and my phone is suddenly buzzing.  
My tv turns on and off again. There's this static filling me. Filling the air, the objects and the world.  
I have no time to adjust to what happens as I gasp for air that I can't reach, my lungs expanding with the feeling of sharp electricity, causing me to stand up in panic.  
My hands hit the table for support but the surface is not comforting anymore.  
It wobbles under my weight and I stumble back watching the scene in front of me. 

Floating.

Everything is floating.  
Chairs, plants, my phone, my jacket thrown on the sofa.  
My whole being is joining them.  
Gasping desperately for air but only getting more shocks through my lungs.  
My soul is feeling as if it's slowly about to burst through my skin and escape me and, whatever He is doing, he just keeps me in this moment.  
Spastic convulsions are dancing around in my body.  
Just as I'm about to faint I feel air again.

I shake heavily, weak and still twitching from the mix of asphyxiation and the static traces.  
my hands and knees are resting on the floor and I can't help to try and whisper a soft "thank you" but my voice is lost. Replaced by the panting and coughing from almost dying.

I manage to sit myself up and notice that the room is back to normal.  
I gather some strength to raise myself to a stand and slumping down at the table again, still coughing occasionally.  
There's a buzz on my phone. One word clearly visible.

Beautiful.

The voice command opens by itself, the beep ordering me to speak.  
I'm caught off guard and just stare at the phone.

As the microphone registers nothing but quiet it turns off.

The three dots indicating the search for an answer goes by for a few seconds followed by the standard voice assistant's voice.

"After all that, nothing to say."

I get a cold sweat and realize that this is it.  
I have made contact. I've always tried and never succeeded.  
I suddenly feel angry. Passionate? Horny?  
"what the hell is this" I whimper aloud at the sudden range of emotions.

Beep  
"So"

I wait for seconds for the rest to follow,

"u̴n̴g̸r̸a̷t̶e̶f̶u̷l̷"

The cold manic tone causes my stomach to flutter intensely.  
It's time to answer, I want to answer. I NEED it.

I'm pressing the mic icon and in a strained breath I simply ask

"How is this happening"

as soon as my finger leaves the button I feel the point of no return. I made contact.  
During these past ten minutes I hadn't sought out to respond or interact.  
I'm still in the belief of this being the best bad idea I've ever had. 

I don't get a reply right away but after a minute or so my screen gets filled with binary code. 

010001110110111101101111011001000010000001000111011010010111001001101100  
01001110011011110111011100100000011000110110111101101101011001010010000001100110011010010110111001100100001000000110110101100101

I don't waste a second deciphering it.  
If fifteen year old me could see me now...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stiiiiill building up! sorry guys! ;)
> 
> I hope you like this so far! Things are going to pick up soon.


End file.
